Where you belong
by FireLionHeart
Summary: There was something in her eyes that wouldn't let him kill her. It was the first mission he wasn't able to complete. Was it worth it? Does an ex-Russian assassin really belong in his world? Rated T but some might go into rated M just depends on what my mind comes up with later on.
1. Chapter 1

** I don't own any of these characters or anything remotely related to them. **

**Chapter: 1**

Clint Barton wasn't use to this type of feeling. He had never, since being recruited to SHIELD, not completed an assignment. This was uncharted territory, dangerous, and something he knew would be absolute hell to deal with later.

"Hawkeye report," the voice of his handler snapped into his ear. He didn't respond, couldn't respond. "Hawkeye complete the mission and report back to base." There was an edge to his handler's voice, like he knew there was something wrong even without looking. "Hawkeye do you copy!" The voice snapped a bit harsher. Clint wasn't paying any attention to the voice in his ear. About ten percent of him was focused on keeping the string of his bow pulled back, another ten percent was focused on keeping the arrow aimed straight at the heart of his target, and the last eighty percent was focused on the intense green eyes staring straight at him.

She didn't move a single muscle, just continued to stare at him. He had been following her for weeks and never once had she let on that she had any idea. He had finally got her where he wanted, alone, in a dark alley with not another person in sight. He had just pulled back the string of his bow when she turned and pierced him with those eyes of hers. After the initial shock, little things started to come together in his head that his subconscious mind must have picked up. All the time he had been following her not once did she step into any place where she would be completely alone and vulnerable. She had been careful and he had actually lost her a couple of times during his hunt. It then suddenly dawned on him that she had purposely wandered into the alley, she had known he was there the entire time, and she was letting him take his shot. That was when he had completely froze. They had stood like that for a while, her just staring up at him and him, while keeping his aim locked, just staring back. He broke out of his spell when he saw her raise an eyebrow at him as if to ask what he was waiting for. If Clint didn't know any better he would say that it was even a sign that she was annoyed with waiting for him to finish his job. He wanted to laugh at the thought but kept his facial features blank. He just continued to stare back. Neither, it would seem, were willing to give up first.

"Barton!" The voice yelled. "Barton are you compromised?" Clint smirked at the thought and wondered just how angry his handler could get.

"Negative sir," he replied with no emotion, not giving anything away.

"Have you completed your mission?" There was still that edge to the man's voice. Clint didn't speak again right away. The Widow still hadn't moved. She continued to stand directly into his line of fire. He couldn't understand it, something about the woman had completely drawn him in. She was beautiful there was no doubt about it but that wasn't the reason he couldn't release the arrow. He knew that she was one of the most ruthless assassins in all of Russia and had done unspeakable things, and yet something about her wouldn't let him kill her.  
"Change of plans," he finally said into his com link.

"Barton!" He heard the man yell again as he dropped his bow and began to walk to the other side of the roof where a ladder was located. "Barton what the hell are you doing?"

"Making a slight alteration to the mission," he stated while climbing down to the ground.

"A slight alteration? Do you even understand what kind of..." Clint reached up and took out the com link as he calmly approached where he knew she would still be sanding. Sure enough, as he stepped from the darkness there she stood with a blank look to mask anything else she might having been feeling. He stopped when he was about a foot away from her. They both took a moment to size each other up. Neither of them knew what to think about the whole situation they found themselves in.

The widow was beautiful, the files had certainly not lied about that. It was the first time Clint had been so close to her and he was a bit dazed at what stood before him though it wasn't her body that attracted the most attention from him. It was her eyes, a beautiful, bright shade of green that pinned him down to the spot where he stood. He noticed something else then that, if he hadn't been watching her for a while, he probably would've missed. The usual air of confidence that surrounded her wasn't there and her shoulders slumped ever so slightly. For the first time since he had started his mission he really saw just how young she was. She looked barely older that a child, except for her eyes. There was a darkness in them that struck him to his very core. He had seen that exact look staring back at him from a mirror not all that long ago, but her's seemed to go so much deeper. It was like her very soul, her entire being, was oozing out with a darkness that was threatening to swallow her whole. He then understood why he couldn't take the shot.

"You're american," the voice was sudden and sounded completely foreign in the silence of the alley. He didn't respond and she folded her arms over her chest. "You know that I could kill you in several different ways even with this distance between us."

"With all due respect, if you were going to kill me you'd have done it by now." He didn't kid himself, he knew just how skilled the woman that was. Something flashed through her eyes and before he could determine what it was she was moving. Without any warning she jumped at him full force and threw him against the brick wall. He groaned as his body collided with the hard surface and he had barely put his hand up in enough time to block a punch aimed for his face. He managed to push her off but that didn't stop her attacks. She aimed a kick to his stomach that he narrowly managed to avoid.

"Hey...hey can we calm down and talk..." She aimed another kick that hit and caused him to slump over in pain. She launched some more attacks his way and he quickly got fed up with it. He dodged her blows and threw some of his own. He hit her once and she barely paused with her assault. She jumped at him and thinking fast he grabbed her waist and used the movement to bring them both to the ground. They rolled for a while before she was on top and had him pinned again.

"Why didn't you take the shot?" She demanded with a fierce look in her eyes. That's when he realized she could have killed him already if she were really trying. He noticed the weapons still attached to her hip and knew there was no doubt many more she could have used.

"Why haven't you," he shot back and used his own training to break out of her hold, another sign that she wasn't completely trying, and switched their positions.

"You're mission was to kill me was it not?" Her voice was frustrated and laced with her native accent.

"And you stood there waiting for me to do it." She easily broke out of the hold and both of them got to their feet. She came at him again and landed both a punch to his face and a knee to his ribs. He responded with a punch of his own to her stomach. They continued dancing around each other for a while until she once again had him against the wall.

"Why do you care, I was making it easy for you." He once again broke free and trapped her against the wall in the same hold he had just been in.

"That's the part I'm not completely getting. Why would you do that? One of the best assassins I've ever heard of and you would just let me take you out, just like that?"

"Mind your own business american," she practically growled before throwing him off of her. They launched their attacks at the same time and fought hard to land a hit while also blocking the other's. Clint managed to catch her arm with one hand and her wrist in his other.

"What if I could give you another option?" He said and she paused for a moment. It was just enough time for him to bring them to the ground again and pin her down with the only advantage he could think of, his weight and the fact that she was smaller than him. She cursed in her native language as she glared up at him. "What if you could come to work for my organization?" She struggled beneath him with fire in her eyes, but he could also see the slightest bit of other emotions deep inside her.

_ Is that hope? Fear? What is it you're hiding?_

He waited to see if she would answer and when she didn't he continued. "Would you be willing to switch sides?"

"Betray my country? Why would I do that?" She asked him spitefully.

"To get away from those trying to control you," he answered and felt her muscles stiffen underneath him, letting him know he had struck the right mark. She suddenly broke out of his grip and they both rolled away from each other. They snapped back to their feet at the same time, him with an arrow aimed at her chest and her with a gun aimed at his. They stood in silence except for the soft panting sounds they made.

"You should have killed me," she said with a very serious tone.

"I'm willing to take the time to convince you otherwise." He said just as seriously. Neither of them let their aim falter even the slightest bit.

"They won't stop," she said.

"The organization I work for is more than capable of protecting you."

"I don't need someone to protect me." She snapped at him.

"I don't doubt it, but it doesn't hurt to have someone on your side." He replied calmly.

"You're organization would never go for this. You were suppose to kill me."

"Then let me deal with them." They still held their weapons the entire time and kept their eyes locked on each other's.

"Why would you want me to join you?" The sharp edge slightly fell from her voice.

"I'm not sure," he said honestly. "Maybe it's because you remind me of myself." She didn't respond after that but continued to search his eyes for any hint that he was lying to her. Not that she really cared, if he was leading her into some trap where she would probably be killed, well wasn't that what she was trying to get him to do just a few minutes ago? Then again, if he was telling the truth, could she really just go with him to his organization? Would she finally be able to break free of the horrors she was running from and start to clean up all the red that she was absolutely drowning in? Could that really happen?

Almost at the exact same time they lowered their weapons.

**So this is how I image there first meeting would go, I hope you all enjoyed. Let me know what you thought and thanks for reading. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter. **

**Chapter: 2**

The night seemed much darker than the others before it. There was unrest in the air that kept him on edge as he followed the woman to where she had called home, for a little while at least. They didn't talk as they traveled through the silent streets. Barely anyone else was around to be seen and Clint came to the realization that it was getting late. He shivered slightly when the coolness of the night breeze grazed his skin. It didn't seem to bother her the slightest bit. Then again she was Russian so he figured she was used to it. He watched her as she walked slightly ahead of him. The confidence he had been so used to seeing had once again returned but he found himself wondering just how much of it was an act. Was she not worried at all what would happen? He would be lying if he said that he wasn't at least a bit concerned himself.

"Can I have your name?" He asked suddenly. It was mostly to break the silence that had settled between them but also because, well they had to start somewhere right? He didn't think having a conversation while fighting in some dark alley really counted. She stopped and turned to him. Her face held a blank expression.

"What's yours?" She asked and he let out a sigh.

"Is it really that hard just to give me your name?" Her eyes hardened and she didn't hesitate with her response.

"I don't trust you." He had to suppress a laugh at that.

"You trust me enough to follow me to my organization where you may or may not be killed but you don't trust me enough to give me your name?"

"What if you're leading me into a trap and I need to escape? It wouldn't be very wise of me to give you my name for you to be able to track me down later now would it?" She crossed her arms over her chest almost as if she were challenging him. He didn't know what to think about that, was this woman testing his reactions? Did she really think that way? Would she really even try to escape if this was all a trap? She was like a puzzle to him. Part of it was her ability to be able to keep a perfectly straight face. If she would just show him something he might get a hint as to what was really going on in her head.

"I doubt it would be to much of a task for you to get a fake identity and completely drop off the face of the earth, he simply replied. She didn't answer immediately and started to walk again. He shook his head and followed. "I'm only asking for your name, not your whole life story."

"What if I simply just don't want to give it?" He thought he heard a slight annoyance in her voice and he smirked to himself.

"I would have to ask you why it's such a big deal." They walked in silence some more until they reached an old run down looking building and walked up to the entrance. He held the door open for her and she led the way up some rickety stairs and down a dark hallway that had that old must smell to it. At the last door on the left she reached into her pocket and pulled out a key. She got it unlocked but before she could turn the knob Clint reached over and grabbed her wrist to stop her. She looked up at him with a look that was definitely annoyed and he looked down at her with complete seriousness shinning in his own.

"Why won't you give me your name?" She moved her hand away from him and turned around to pin him with a serious look of her own.

"Why do you want to know so badly?" He leaned in just slightly closer. They stared intently into each others eyes.

"I would like to know the name of the person I'm risking my career, and quite possibly my life for." She stared into his stormy blue eyes, both admiring and hating the determination she saw in them.  
"If you would like to take back your offer than just leave," she said "or kill me." That made him pause for a moment and she didn't hesitate to take advantage of it. "Complete your mission and no one will care about anything else that happened here tonight."

"Why do you want me to kill you so badly?" He shot back at her, moving a bit closer. She noticed and took a step back only to find herself against the door.

"Why do you want to save me so badly?" She shot back with fire in her words.

"Once upon a time there was a boy who felt like he had no way out," he said in a steady voice "then one day someone did."

"What is it that you're wanting?" He shrugged his shoulder slightly. "I don't know, maybe I want to pay it forward." He leaned in even closer. "Or maybe, just maybe, I saw something in someone else that I thought might just be worth a second chance." The annoyance was seeping into his voice as well and didn't go unnoticed by the Russian.

"And if your organization doesn't feel the same?" She shot back. "Don't kid yourself into thinking I'm anything than what I am. I'm a killer that's what I have and always will be." She said in a dark but equally annoyed voice.

"Oh I'm not kidding anyone, I know without a doubt that you're one of the most deadly people I've ever met. I've been following you for a while which I'm sure you're aware of, I think I've got the idea." He all but snapped at her. "But you want to know what else I know? I know that if you really wanted to you could've killed me by now but you haven't."

"That is a dangerous game to play with me Hawk." Her voice held a deadly edge to it a she spoke and he froze at the mention of his code name coming from her mouth. A slight smirk pulled at her lips. "I've heard of you for the same reason you've heard of me." She said now being the one to move closer but in a much more obvious and threatening way than he had. He was no doubt talking to the Widow now. "The archer who sees best from a distance. A deadly quick and silent killer. One that creeps in the shadows of rooftops and goes unnoticed until it's too late." If he were anyone else he was sure that her voice would've sent chills through his body.

"I know my resume, thanks." He shot back at her.

"What's in it for you?" She moved closer so that there was little space between them. Both refused to be the first to back down. He didn't like where he knew the conversation was headed.

"All I asked you for was your name." He said getting back to the original conversation."I don't expect or want anything else from you."

"And what if your boss decides I'm better off dead?" She said back to him. "Will knowing my name somehow make that any easier for you?" Something shot through him at that comment. "It only makes it harder."

"Are you concerned more for me or yourself?" He asked before he could stop himself.

"I'm fully prepared not to make it past tomorrow." She snapped back. Clint groaned inwardly at the statement. Why did this woman care so little about her life. Then again, hadn't he been there himself at one point? He found himself wondering what had happened in her life to make her feel that way and doubted he would be getting an answer anytime soon.

"And if you do live to fight another day?" She let out a frustrated sigh and practically glared at him.

"You know what fine. If this all does end up working out somehow then I'll give you my name. Are you satisfied now," she hissed at him.

"I'll hold you to that," he said reaching behind her to open the door. They stared at each other for a moment longer before she turned to step into the room.

* * *

About an hour and a half later the two of them where walking up to the jet that had arrived to pick them up. A young man Clint recognized as one of the regular pilots, had turned in his seat when they had stepped on board. He was about to say something but froze when he saw the woman standing there. She looked him straight in the eye and fought back a smirk when she saw him swallow nervously. Clint noticed the interaction and shook his head. She glanced at him and shrugged as he pointed to a seat. She looked away from him and silently took the seat that he indicated.

"Is...is that the..." the poor man stumbled over his words while pointing to the extra passenger.

"Yep," Clint replied.

"You mean you didn't..."

"Nope," he said as he took a seat in the co-pilot's chair.

"Does Agent Coulson know that you're..."

"Are we gonna take off anytime soon? It's getting pretty late and I've got a handler that's pretty eager to shoot me in the head right now. It would be rude to keep him waiting." The pilot couldn't help but glance back at the woman sitting silently behind them. She flashed him a deadly smile and winked. She thought the man's heart would give out. Clint turned in his seat and gave her a look that clearly said to be nice. She morphed her features into an innocent look and he raised his eyebrows at her, as if he would believe that look. She let her face fall back into the blankness that he was used to seeing and he turned back around in his seat. He nodded to the pilot to take off and with slight hesitation the pilot obliged.

The flight only took a couple of hours. None of them spoke a word until the pilot announced they would be landing soon. Clint glanced back at the Widow but saw no hint that she was nervous about the hell that was surely about to head their way. She kept her face completely void of any emotion. The pilot looked relived when he finally set the jet down and Clint felt kind of bad for him. He started to get unstrapped when he saw other agents, all armed and ready, come out of the building and head their way. There where eight all together and one man who held no weapon but the look on his face. Clint wasn't too sure if he'd rather deal with the guns.

"Good luck," the pilot whispered as Clint stood from his seat and watched the Widow do the same. He nodded and looked to where she stood.

"You ready?"

"Let's get it over with," she replied before heading to the back of the jet. The sun was just starting to come up as they stepped off the jet and into the morning air. Guns where immediately trained on their target though she didn't even glance at them. Her eyes stayed focused in front of her to the obviously seething man who was waiting for them at the entrance of the building. When they reached him he removed his sunglasses and glared at his agent.

"Do you have any idea what kind of hell you're about to be in?"

"Good to see you too Phil."

**So there's chapter 2. I hope you enjoyed reading, let me know what you thought. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter: 3**

The eight armed and dangerous agents that had met them by the jet escorted them down the hall. They formed a U-shape with the Widow leading the pack. Clint suspected that a lot of them were too nervous to have her walk behind them. That made him smirk at the thought that the tough little agents could be scared of one person, a woman at that. To be perfectly honest he knew that without a doubt they had a damn good reason to be scared of her. There was no doubt in his mind that she could take them out, even with her hands cuffed like they were, and walk away without a scratch on her. They were right to be afraid. However, he would definitely remember this moment if any of those men ever gave him hell for anything ever again. He made sure to memorize each of their faces. As for him and a very pissed off Phil Coulson, they walked in the middle of the little parade heading towards the director's office.

"I don't know what the hell was going through your head kid," Phil whispered. They were far enough away that Clint didn't think that Coulson thought she'd be able to hear the conversation, Clint didn't doubt that the Widow could hear every word.

"Not now Phil," he said quietly.

"Don't not now me Phil," he seethed "I don't know if you noticed but you're about to be in a hell storm if you can't give a damn good explanation for this."

"Hope you came prepared," Clint returned as they came face to face with the director. The other agents moved so that they all had a clear shot of the Russian assassin. Clint's nerves jumped, if she even flinched she'd probably be dead. The director's good eye stared them all down before settling on the woman in front of him.

"I only need Agent Barton," his eye never moved from the Widow's.

"Sir..." Coulson stepped forward and Fury held his hand up to cut him off.

"Only him." He repeated and went back to his office. A woman that Clint recognized as Agent Hill put a hand to her ear piece and nodded even though it was clear whoever was on the other side couldn't see her.

"Yes sir," she said then looked at Coulson. "You are to escort the prisoner to interrogation room 5A."

"She's not a prisoner." Clint muttered under his breath as he was walking to the director Fury's office. Hill grabbed his arm to stop him and he had to fight to hold back a glare.

"Until further notice that is exactly what she is Agent." She said then released his arm. He glanced back at Phil who shot him the better behave look before carefully placing a hand on the Widow's shoulder and leading her away. The fact that she had just let him spoke wonders. Clint highly doubted that even his handler could make her go somewhere if she didn't want to, no matter the situation. Clint rubbed his eyes then finally stepped into the director's office. The man signaled for him to take a seat and so he did. The tension in the air was thick and made Clint feel as though he could choke on it. As the silence between them continued questions ran through Clint's mind almost too fast for him to comprehend everything that was being screamed at him.

What the heck did you do?

Can she really change?

Is Fury going to have someone else finish his job?

Is Fury going to kill me?

What if she was faking just to get close to SHIELD and at this very moment was planning to kill them all? Clint fought the urge to shake his head to clear out the disturbing thoughts. On the outside he kept himself perfectly calm so as not to lead on that he was internally freaking out. Fury just continued to stare at him. Clint couldn't help but wonder what was going through the director's head at the moment. Was it possible for the director of SHIELD to be internally freaking out as bad as he was? Was that even allowed?

"Are you going to explain to me, Agent Barton, why your assignment is sitting in one of our interrogation rooms right now?" The sudden break of the silence caught him off guard but judging from the outside you'd never be able to tell it.

"Sir, after observing the Widow for quite some time I've come to believe that she would be of better use to us alive rather than the alternative," Clint stated as professionally as he could sound. Fury raised his eyebrows at the statement and folded his hands on top of his desk.

"And you do realize just how dangerous this woman is right?"

"Yes sir," Clint said.

"So how, may I ask, do you know she purposely didn't get herself brought here to kill us all, or worse, to steal the information we have." Fury's voice stayed at a calm level. "There are some secrets we keep that in the wrong hands become very dangerous Agent Barton."

"I'm aware of that sir, but with all due respect, she hasn't killed anyone yet and I think we both know she could if she wanted."

"The key word being yet," Fury stared directly at Clint. He felt as if his director could see everything that he was trying to hide, it was very uncomfortable. "Agent Barton I'm going to ask you this one time, be completely honest with me, are you compromised." Something in Clint's chest tightened but he couldn't identify what or why.

"No sir." He replied just as calmly as Fury had been speaking the entire time. They held each other's gaze for a bit longer before Fury nodded once and stood. Clint followed his lead and got to his feet as well.

"I'm going to go talk to her," Fury said and headed towards the door. "I'll then make my decision on whether this is even worth bringing to the council."

* * *

Fury walked down the hallways with that air about him that just warned people to stay away as soon as you saw him. He figured that word must have already spread around base because every few minutes or so there would be at least two agents whispering to each other and going stone silent as he walked by. Any other day he would have found their behavior somewhat amusing but today wasn't one of those days. He didn't have time for those agents and their antics when one of his best agents could have possibly just made the biggest mistake in his life. Even if he were to agree to this convincing the council would be absolute hell. Barton sure knew how to give him the worst headaches.

"Sir," Coulson said and stood from the chair he had set up outside the interrogation room. Fury looked at him with an unasked question. "I was just standing guard sir," he said.

"Has she said anything?" Fury asked and Coulson shook his head.

"Not a word since getting off that jet. Would you like me to accompany you sir?"

"No," was all Fury said. Coulson glanced uneasily at the door.

"No offence sir, but you're the director of SHIELD. If the Widow does have some master plan to take over the base I'm sure you'd be high on the list to take out first. Are you sure you want to go in alone?"

"I said no Agent Coulson, besides if you can't convince Barton to stay away then I need you to keep him in the monitoring room where he belongs." Coulson wanted to argue but there was no argument to be made with that last statement. The boy has already caused enough trouble for one day.

"What's going to happen to Agent Barton?" Coulson couldn't help but be worried. Despite the fact that Barton could be a complete pain in the ass, he was like a son to him. Fury's face softened ever so slightly at the question.

"Suspended for a month effective immediately. Also, if this works out I plan to make her his responsibility, and I expect you to make him drown in all the paperwork he has fallen behind on." Fury thought for a moment then added "I think we can also throw in some junior agent training."

"He'll love that." Coulson said and couldn't wait to go to Barton and beat his head in, just a little. Fury nodded then went to open the door. "Good luck sir," Coulson said as the director stepped into the room. He let out an exhausted sigh then after a moment to collect himself he went to the direction of the monitoring room. He had a certain archer to find.

* * *

She remained silent as he entered the room. The first thing that he noticed was that her wrists where still handcuffed behind her, it didn't look all that comfortable. He walked over and hit a button on the wall and waited until a group of guards came running to the room. Fury raised his eyebrows at them. Only one mabe two guard where required to show up when that button was pushed and if more where needed after that then they'd call for backup. This woman clearly had everyone on edge and Fury couldn't help but feel a small amount of respect for that. He told one of the guards to hand him his set of keys and after a confused look the man complied. Fury then dismissed them and shut the door when they had all left. He silently walked over to the Widow and undid the cuff on her left wrist, brought both wrists in front of her, and locked the cuff back on. He wasn't a stupid man. Fury was quite aware that she could kill him even with the handcuffs on and that she could probably kill him even with her hands behind her back, there was no reason for her to be in that uncomfortable position. She wasn't a proven threat to them yet. He didn't expect a thank you and she didn't give him one. He took the seat across from her and their eyes instantly locked on each others, starting yet another intense staring contest.

"My name is Director Fury." He waited for a moment but she remained silent. "Would you care to share your name?"

"Black Widow is fine for now." She replied and from inside the observation room Clint rolled his eyes at the statement.

"If you insist," Fury said then gave her a very serious look that didn't threaten her at all. "Why are you here Widow?"

"A little bird insisted." She said without missing a beat. Clint held back a groan only because Coulson had entered the room as well.

"I don't want to play games Widow." She leaned in a little further. Coulson tensed at the movement but didn't comment.

"Good because neither do I. Are you going to kill me?" Fury folded his hands on the table and leaned in closer as well.

"That would depend on your intentions here," he replied. "How many SHIELD agents have you killed over the years?"

"Five," she answer without hesitation and Clint wanted to face-palm right there. Then she spoke again "How many have you killed over the years with your assignments?" Fury didn't respond and Clint swore the woman was going to kill him right then and there.

"The agents that have died while in the field knew what they were signing up for when they took the job." He said after a brief silence.

"I have no intentions here," She said back.

"Do you plan to join us?"

"I haven't decided."

"Doesn't look like you have that many options, or time Widow," Fury said.

"I always have options," she said and Clint swore he heard just a hint of desperation in her voice. Like she needed that last statement to be true. Fury must have heard it too because his face relaxed just slightly. The two went silent again and Clint held his breath until the director spoke again.

"I would like to offer you a job here with SHIELD," Fury said calmly and sat back a little. She continued to stare at him then finally she answered and Clint felt like he could breathe again.

"Fine." Fury nodded and some of the tension eased out of the room. Fury indicated for her to raise her arms and she did. He spoke as he unhooked the handcuffs.

"You do understand that this isn't just my decision and that your death may still be ordered from the council right?" She nodded and dropped her now free hands back to the table. "But if and when I convince them that you're better use to SHIELD alive you'll be monitored closely for at least a few weeks. Agent Barton will be the one responsible for you seeing as he's the one who brought you in. He'll explain the basics of how we work and you'll have a training schedule by next week. The first few days will be to test your abilities to see just how skilled you are." She nodded and he sat up again. "I'm going to need a name Widow." She looked at him then turned her eye to where she knew Clint was watching. She seemed to be looking right at him though there was no way for her to actually see him.

"You may call me Natasha," She said and Clint's eyes widened. All traced of the Russian accent where gone from her voice. "Natasha Romanoff."

"That's american," Fury pointed out also silently impressed. She turned her eyes back to the director. "What's your Russian name."

"It doesn't matter."

**Hope you enjoyed reading and let me know your thoughts. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter: 4**

That first night that Clint had brought her in Natasha, was assigned a cell in which she would be staying in until her observation days were over. She didn't mind much, she hadn't expected anything else. He came down to the holding cells to visit her once they had finished explaining that she would be released in about a week if the Council saw fit to allow her to stay. He didn't say so but Natasha knew that he was worried for her. She almost laughed at that, his organization wasn't what she was worried about.

"Furry's going to talk with the council in the morning." He said and she nodded in reply. "They're gonna want to talk to you again tomorrow."

"They've already told me," she said and it was his turn to nod. Silence fell over the two of them until he smiled and reached his hand out.

"Clint Barton. It's nice to meet you Ms. Romanoff." She stared at his hand for a moment with a blank face and he almost pulled it back awkwardly but at the last second she reached out and took his hand in her own.

"Nice to meet you Agent Barton." They shook hands and Clint stood to leave.

"Get some rest," he said as the guard unlocked the door to let him out. "Goodnight." He walked through the door and the guard immediately shut and locked it, leaving her alone in the darkened room. She laid down on the not-so-soft bed that was in the room but didn't get much sleep. Early the next morning two guards stepped into the cell, weapons ready, and led her back to the same interrogation room she had been in the night before. The only difference is the man who sat there was not Director Furry, it was the man who had met them when they had first arrived. He motioned for her to take a seat and she did without taking her eyes off of the man. He then excused the guards and the two of them were left alone. She noted that they had not handcuffed her.

"So, I heard that it was Ms. Romanoff now." He said and she just looked at him with that blank face she had perfected over the years. He inwardly sighed at the woman before him, she was going to be difficult. "My name is Phil Coulson. I'm Agent Barton's handler and, if everything works out, I will be yours as well." She nodded at that and he continued. "You know that Director Furry has talked to the Council on your behalf," again she nodded, "Well they weren't happy about it but they've decided to see how it goes." Inwardly something deep inside her was relieved but she didn't let it show. She motioned for him to keep talking. "Now, I suspect you're aware of your...unique recruitment to our agency. We have some things that must be discussed and to do that I'm going to need more than a nod." He said to her with a look. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down for just a second longer. He felt like she was searching for something and wondered briefly what that was.

Something to trust in? If I'm manipulating her or not? Whether I'm about to attack? What are you searching for? He didn't have long to ponder that thought though because finally her voice broke through the silence.

"What things?"

"Things that concern your past." At those words he thought he saw something close to fear or pain flash through her eyes but it was gone almost as fast as it had appeared. e thought that maybe he had caught a glimpse at what everyone else was seeing in this woman. He shook his head slightly to get those thoughts out, he had to focus on the task at hand. "Only the basics Ms. Romanoff." With just the slightest bit of reluctance she nodded again.

"What do you want to know?" He was a bit surprised at that response, he hadn't expected her to be ready to just talk. He had thought it would be a lot more difficult to get her to cooperate. Coulson looked down at the folder that laid before him and opened it up, also taking out a pen from his jacket pocket.

"The only hard facts that we know about you is that you were born in Russia and for quite a few years you've been one of the best, if not the best, assassin around," He said to her. "So, let's get some basics down. What is your Russian name?" She didn't answer and he looked up at her. "I know you told Director Furry it doesn't matter but we need it for your file.

"I don't think it's wise to keep files on your agents." She replied with a level voice.

"We keep all files on our best Agents locked up so that only the most highest authorization can see them."

"They can still be stolen," she pointed out and he gave her a look that said to stop plating around the subject.

"Only by the best. Will you answer the question Ms. Romanoff?" She looked away from him then and turned to the two-way mirror in the room.

"Is he watching?" Coulson didn't need to ask who she was referring to.

"No, no one was authorized to look in on this interview," He replied calmly and she looked back to him.

"Why were you sent to do this," She asked suddenly.

"I'm one of those highest authorization figures," was all he said.

"The Director must place a lot of trust in you," She said back to him.

"Yes he does, and with good reason." Silence once again fell upon the room for just a moment before she spoke again.

"Natalia," she said "Natalia Romanova." He studied her for a second before scribbling the name on the form.

"Thank you," he said but noticed she seemed a bit zoned out.

_She found herself in a dark room in line with about twelve other girls. _

_"Natalia!" A man's voice snapped at her. A silhouette of that man suddenly towered over her and she could barely make out the man's hard and angry eyes before he was reaching for her._

"Ms. Romanoff," the new voice snapped her back into reality and she looked at Agent Coulson. "Still with me?" She nodded and he gave her a look before continuing. "Ok, now can you tell me your age?" Another vision pushed itself inside her head.

_Someone stood before her in a white coat, coming up to examine her. _

_"It doesn't matter Natalia, age is just a number best forgot." He placed a hand on her shoulder then placed the end of his stethoscope on her back. "So are birthdays." _

Coulson was about to call out to her again but she spoke up right before.

"No." He rubbed his eyes and looked at her again.

"Ms. Romanoff I thought we just discussed this. If you don;t want people to know this information..."

"I don't know Agent Coulson." She almost snapped at him. He hid the shock he felt and examined her eyes again. Something was wrong but he couldn't tell what. Damn that blank mask of hers.

"How can you not know Ms. Romanoff?" He asked as calmly as he could.

"I was a child when I was taken to the organisation I worked for." She said "they never told me and eventually I just...forgot." There was other things, deeper things, that he knew she was leaving out but he didn't push her.

"And what organization was that Ms. Romanoff?" He watched as her eyes got that far away look in them again and knew that she was reliving something he didn't necessarily want to know about.

How the hell could someone just completely forget hoe old they were?

_Her arms and legs were strapped down and another man in a white lab coat was standing over her. _

_"who do you work for Natalia?" The man asked._

_"Red Room," she replied and the man nodded. _

_"Who are you loyal to?" _

_"Red Room," she repeated. _

_"Where do you belong?" _

_"Red Room."_

_"Who are the only people who will accept you?"_ "Ms. Romanoff," the other voice seemed so far away that it was unimportant.

_"Red Room."_

_ "Who is your only family?" _

_"Red Room."_ "Ms. Romanoff?"

_"Will you ever betray your family?"_ "Ms. Romanoff," the voice sounded concerned but still too far away.

_"No." The man smiled down at her before placing a mask over her nose and mouth and pressing a button on the machine. The gas instantly made her feel sleepy. _

_"And we'll be sure to make sure of that." She heard before the darkness took over the world around her_. "Ms. Romanoff!" The voice was frantic now but it soon faded away altogether as well.

Coulson was out of his chair the moment her eyes had closed. He rushed to her side and pressed the button on his earpiece. He managed to stop her from falling out of the chair and possibly smashing her head on the ground. "I need some help in here!" he shouted through his comm. "The Black Widow collapsed! I need medical in here right now something isn't right!" He lowered her to the ground and her body started shaking. He had no idea what was going on but he knew it wasn't good and he was no doctor. "Ms. Romanoff can you hear me?" He patted the side of her face lightly but there was no response, she continued to shake. Outside the door he heard rushed footsteps and was relieved at the sound. The medical team along with three armed guard burst into the room. The medics quickly rushed to her side and the guards stood back and observed. "What the hell is she gonna do? Kill us all while unconscious?" Coulson said to the guards. One shrugged and lowered his weapon.

"Didn't know if she was faking." He said and Coulson looked back down at Natasha who was shaking worse.

"Yeah I seriously doubt it," he said giving the guard a look.

"What happened?" One of the medics asked and Coulson shook his head.

"I don't know we were talking and she just collapsed," he said as they checked her vitals.

"Shit!" One shouted after taking her pulse. "I think she's shutting down! We've gotta move!" A stretcher was brought in and they quickly loaded her up and wheeled her away towards the medical unit. Coulson stared after them untill he could no longer see them. That was one of the most interesting things that had ever happened to him while just giving an interview. He looked around and saw that a small crowd had gathered. He was about to tell them to go back to their own business when he spotted a certain archer standing there staring at him.

**Well there's the new chapter. I hope you enjoyed and would love to hear what you guys thought.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter: 5**

Clint Barton had always hated medical and probably always would. He hated the way it smelled, the anxious feeling it produced, but mostly he hated the loss of control. He always felt an overwhelming lack of control when forced to wait in the medical center's waiting area. He wanted answers that people wouldn't give give him at the moment. He wanted to do something but there was nothing to be done, at least nothing that could be done by him. The only thing he knew at the moment was that she collapsed. He tried to get more information from Coulson but he had been called away by Fury and had promised to talk later. So, Clint found himself sitting in the place he dreded, Sitting in a fairly uncomfortable chair and staring at the blank wall in front of him. He'd only ever had to stay in the dreadful place once or twice. Most of the time when Clint had to visit Medical he was the one on the other side of the doors being treated then planning his escape. Being an actual patient was hell, but being the one in the waiting area was almost just as bad if not worse at times. The room was completely silent apart from the occational nurse walking by, so when Coulson finally showed Clint had heard him well before he actually came in the room.

"Barton," he said and took a seat next to his agent.

"What the hell happened Phil?" Both of them talked with a calm and cool voice. It was like they were disscussing the weather on any normal day. Coulson sighed and rubbed his eyes. It was clear he was tired of the topic, Fury hadn't called him away to talk about nothing.

"I don't know Barton," He said shaking his head slightly. "We were talking, she kind of stared off into space, then she just collapsed."

"What did you say to her?"

"I asked what organization she worked for." He said as he loosened his tie from around his neck and laid back in the chair. Clint liked his handler, he was like a father figure to him, and he liked that they could relax around each other. "I still don't know what you where thinking bringing her here." Clint followed Coulson's example and leaned back in his chair.

"I saw something in her Phil," both of them stared at the ceiling as they spoke "There was something there screaming at me not to take that shot." Coulson turned his head to look at him when Clint fell silent after that.

"And that was?" Clint shrugged but didn't look back at him.

"I don't know." He sighed and Coulson looked back to the ceiling. "I honestly don't know." Silence then snuck it's way in and settled over the two. The conversation dropped for a moment but both knew that it wasn't over, even before Coulson spoke again.

"You're just lucky that the Council has agreed to go with this, otherwise you'd both probably be dead."

"I know," Clint replied.

"I swear, I don't think I'll ever understand how your mind works." Clint just nodded in agreement.

"Hear from the doctor at all?" He asked suddenly and Coulson shook his head.

"Not much more than you have," Clint nodded.

"Do you think this will work out," Clint asked "do you think she'll be ok here?" Coulson sighed and rubbed his eyes again both out of fustration and exhaustion.

"I don't know, for all we know she could very well be here to kill us all," he said "but if it's worth anything I'll hope for the best." It was Clint's turn to look over at his handler when a thought suddenly came across his mind.

"What changed?" He asked and Coulson looked back at him.

"What do you mean?"

"When I first showed up here with her you looked like you'd shoot her yourself that very moment. Now you're hoping for the best? What changed?" Coulson shrugged and they both turned to look back upwards. There was another short pause before Coulson spoke up again.

"Damn kid didn't even know how old she was," he said quietly.

"What if she was faking?" Clint countered.

"She wasn't."

* * *

She was falling into the darkness. It surrounded her like a thick blanket that made her feel like she was suffocaing. In the distance she could hear screaming. It was the only thing that penetrated the darkness and it echoed loudly in her head. Long, painful screams from the people of her past. It felt as if her head was going to explode from the sound. Occationally she would hear a voice from her past. She could make out some of them but others were completely lost to her. Mostly it was her instructors. They were telling her to be better, threatening her with their torturous ways if she didn't improve, telling her to kill and that emotions only made her weak. They taught her to be nothing, forced her to be nothing but a killing machiene doomed to be in their control for the rest of her life. She could hear their taunting voices, feel their touch on her skin, and could see the evil looks in their eyes. She fought against it as best she could. She tried to block out the screams and their voices, but it was no use. The images started after a while. Images of a dark room and several other girls. Images of blood on her hands and the many victims shes had over the years. Images of cold winters all alone in the wilderness, of water completely surrounding her as she quickly ran out of breath, of fire and thick smoke. She screamed but it didn't make a sound. All the faces of her victims stared back at her screaming with pain and making her wish she were deaf. She felt her heart speed up to an alarming rate, could feel a layer of sweat forming on top of her skin, she couldn't breathe. She was trapped. Then everything slowly began to fade away again.

* * *

"Sir," Fury laid down the file he had been reading and looked up to see Agent Hill staring down at him. "They've managed to get her stable again," she reported.

"Do they have any idea what made her crash this second time," he asked.

"The doctor found something that they think you should see." She said and he stood from his chair.

"What is it?" They walked from his office and towards the medical center.

"Dr. Martain thinks it's some sort of device," she said "they found it implanted in her skin."

"Any idea what it does," he asked and she shook her head.

"No sir, they were just starting to take a look at it when I left." She said then took a breath before continuing. "Barton requests that you allow him to be part of this."

"Part of what?"

"Part of monitoring Ms. Romanoff, the interviewing that will take place if and when she wakes up, all of it." Furry didn't reply until they had reached the doors to medical. He then stopped and turned to look at her.

"She is going to be his responsiblity...Fine." With that he walked through the doors and left her to go deliver the message. A nurse immedeatly came to lead him over to the doctor in question. He was hunched over a microscope when they walked into the room. The man's head snapped up when he heard them and the nurse left, being sure to close the door behind her.

"Director, I'm afraid I can't tell you much." Dr. Martain said as he shook the director's hand.

"I hear that you found some sort of device." Fury said and the doctor nodded.

"Yes, unfortunately that is what I was refering to. I don't know what it is, I've never seen anything like it before." He pushed his wire rimmed glasses further up his nose. "I don't quite understand how it works but I believe it was created to silence Ms. Romanoff if she were ever to be captured by an opposing organization."

"Then why is this just happening? She's been here for just about twenty four hours now."

"I don't know. It could be that it's a slow working process or maybe it has to be triggered somehow like..." he ran a hand through his graying brunette hair and thought hard "like maybe a smell?" He didn't seem very sure of himself.

"She collapsed during an interview about her past." Fury pointed out.

"Well, maybe something brought up a certain memory or maybe it was a question that was asked."

"The last question was the name of the organization she worked for." The new voice startled the doctor but didn't seem to affect Fury. Coulson stepped into the room followed by Clint and Agent Hill.

"That could possibly work." The doctor replied "I don't know how but it would have to be something of the sort. It's a bit much to be a coincidence don't you think?"

"How do we know this device caused this at all?" Fury asked crossing his arms over his chest.

"Because it was only after the device was taken out that her body stopped fighting us and aloud itself to stablize," Martain replied "I'm afraid it would have killed her if given a little more time. She was fighting it but it did seem to be winning."

"So," Clint cut in "your saying that whoever she worked for implanted this device to ultimalty kill her when triggered so that their organization wouldn't be revealed?"

"Not that unbelievable," it was Hill's turn to cut in "smart actually."

"I'm just not sure how they did it. I am hoping that Ms. Romanoff wakes up shortly, maybe she can shed some light on the subject." Martain said.

"If she even knows," Coulson said under his breath.

"They sure as hell take the loyalty of their agents pretty damn seriously," Clint said.

"Or they're very serious about keeping their organization a secret," Coulson said.

"With the hits that she performed, the ones both confirmed and suspected, I can see why," Hill said.

"When she does wake up," Fury's voice cut through the chatter and silenced them "give her a few hours then continue with the interview." He said looking to Coulson who simply nodded. "Keep me updated," and with that he left the room.

**Thanks to those who reviewed and also to those who added this story on their favorites/follow list. Hope you all enjoyed this new chapter.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter: 6**

It was a strange thing for him to see her in that state. She was completely at rest and calm looking. With all they knew of her past and her skills, it was easy to forget that she was, for lack of a better word, human. Looking at her laying on the hospital bed though, Clint didn't waste the opportunity to truly examine her without fear of her reaction. The muscles in her face that were usually forced into a blank expression were relaxed and soft. It made her seem younger than she had before and more fragile than she appeared to be while awake. Her red hair contrasted brilliantly against the white pillow and the overall dull colors of the room. He noticed again just how small she was and found himself wondering again how this could be the same woman in those reports he had read. He shook those thoughts away and sat in the chair next to the bed. It was his turn to be on watch in case she woke up and though he wasn't required to be in the room with her he wanted to avoid the waiting room. He could hear the humming of the computer monitors and glanced at the numbers on the screen. All of her vitals were back to a normal level. The doctor had said that after they removed that device they had found everything began stabilizing within twenty minutes. He wondered how the technology worked but didn't dwell on the fact. If he allowed himself to think about it too much he might just find himself checking over his own body for implanted devices. That would get him a lovely trip to the psych ward, and he enjoyed that place almost as much as medical's waiting room. Still, the human part of him was curious about it all. The agent part of him didn't want to know. He couldn't imagine what her past must have been like if this is what their employers did to them, and the thing that Coulson and mentioned about her not knowing how old she was, that was a bit bothersome.

"Agent Barton,"an older looking nurse with short, curly brown hair, and a stern look on her face came into the room. Clint didn't know whether he wanted to smile or groan at seeing the woman, they knew each other well. On his trips to medical, no matter what nurse he started with, she would be assigned to him before the end of it. The first time he met the woman he had just managed to reach the went in his room, with a broken leg and a gunshot wound in his shoulder, and was planning to make an escape. She made him sit down and rolled the bed back to where it was suppose to be then threatened to strap him to it if he didn't sit still, but so did a lot of nurses and none followed through. When she left he immideatly got back to work and slowly managed to get the bed back under the vent. It was then that she came back into the room and he found out just how serious she was. It was that day he had decided that he hated the woman. The next time they met however, he had recieved some pretty bad burns to his arms and was arguing with the nurse he had been assigned. He didn't want the pain medication, he didn't like it when they drugged him. The young nurse was insisting and was even getting the needle ready when she had walked in. She stared directly at him as she told the young nurse to put the needle away. She said that if he was good and rested like he was suppose to then she didn't see the need for the drugs if he was so against the idea. It was that day he decided that he respected her. They had an understanding with each other. She knew that he would try aand escape if he was up to it, and while she always tried to stop him when she caught him, she never tried to find him and drag him back when he did manage. Though, she would if he was seriously injured and not thinking right. She knew how he worked when it came to medical adn one look at his charts told her whether he would be ok physically. She didn't bother with the emotional things and he was glad for that. She also asked if he wanted the drugs and respected his wishes when he said no.

"Nurse Grant," he said with a slight nod.

"Visiting hours are over Barton." She walked over to the EKG machine and wrote some things down on the clipboard she carried.

"I have clearance," he said taking out the official paper he knew she'd want to see. They knew each other well. She took a glance at it and nodded then turned back to what she was doing. "We're waiting for her to wake up."

"So, I've heard." She finished writing stuff down and put the pen behind her ear. "The whole base is buzzing with rumors Barton."

"I've never cared for the latest gossip."

"Well this is all about you," she said and looked down to where Natasha laid still in the bed "and her."

"It'll die down in a week or two," he said and she shook her head.

"I don't think so Barton. No ones quite done anything like this before. She's a well-known russian assassin who has hidden in the shadows for years but somehow you managed to get her to willingly follow you back here with no trouble." Clint scoffed at that comment.

"I have bruises that proves I had some trouble convincing her."

"But she didn't kill you," Grant pointed out"and you didn't kill her. It's the first time you didn't follow orders and no one knows why, especially for her."

"I'm still trying to figure out why myself." Clint mumbled softly but she heard anyways and nodded.

"I think a majority of them are afraid of her." She said after a moment and he looked up at her.

"What about you," he asked "are you afraid of her?"

"She looks like a child compared to my old age," Grant said "So do you for that matter." He smiled a bit at that. The woman was in her late forties but could still put up with even the most stubborn of agents, he knew, she was good at her job. She was the best and he did hope that she would be the one to look after Natasha. She was a pain in his ass but she was the best.

"That doesn't answer my question," he said and she chuckled.

"I put up with you don't I? I'm not afraid of her Barton." She said and began to walk towards the door "I volunteered to be here. Get some rest kid." With that she was gone and Clint shook his head in amusement. He thought, if she wasn't a devil woman when he was the one in the bed, they would've actually become friends.

* * *

Down the street from the SHEILD base where Clint kept a careful eye over their new recruit, a dark figure was crouched on the roof of a building. He kept his eyes trained on the SHEILD base, even when he felt the presence behind him.

"She lived," the new arrival said.

"The boss won't be happy about this."

"He's already not happy," he said to the man behind him. "She was their greatest accomplishment." He heard the man chuckle behind him but still kept his eyes trained forward.

"I know a certain blonde woman who'd kill you if you said that in front of her."

"She could try," he replied.

"What do you think the boss is going to do about this?" the man asked and came to sit beside him.

"I think we both know what he's planning to do about this." He answered in a cold voice. "You know that you'll be picked for this." The man said after a slight pause. "Can you..."

"Don't question my abilities." He snapped and glared at the other man. "You just focus on your part and I'll worry about mine when the time comes."

"What do you think she'll tell them?" A silence fell between them then as the man waited for him to give an answer that he honestly didn't know. It infuriated him to no end just how well she could hide her thoughts from even him. He never would have expected her to do something as stupid as what she did. A part of him wanted to go in there and kill her himself. Another part of him, one that he kept burried deep inside of himself, wanted to go in there and just shake her untill she got her common sense back. That part of him hoped that this was just her pulling a stunt to get to the organization by herself, a way to show off to the rest of them that she didn't need help taking them down. The other part of him, the one not so burried deep, was furious simply because he knew somehow that it wasn't an act.

"Whatever she wants." He finally answered and stood up. "I need to check in with the boss." He said and looked back at the other man. "You need to be going back." The man nodded and they parted ways.

**Sorry this is a bit shorter than the others. I do hope you enjoyed reading it though let me know what you thought. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter: 7**

The girl's eyes where dark. They were filled with deep concentration and an absolute hatred. Her long black hair was in a braid and she pushed it behind her as the two of them circled around each other like two wild beasts. She had let her own red curls fall loosely around her shoulders. The room around them had gone silent. The others, both the two girls on the side and the instructors, watched them closely. They examined every move that the two fighters made. There was a moment where everything came into focus all at once. She could smell the mustiness of the basement mixed with the strong smell of iron from the blood that had been spilled there over the years. She could hear the buzzing of what she guessed was a nearby fly. The blood rushed through her system from both adrenaline and fear. The two of them could see every move, every twitch, of the other. They continued to circle around each other, a fire burned in each of their eyes. The intensity of it all seemed to come alive in the air. Finally a whistle was blown and the two of them lunged for each other. The other girls watched from the side lines. They studied every move that each girl made. Natasha was the smaller of the two fighters, then again, she was smaller than most of the others as well. She was also one of the youngest among them. She had learned long ago to use this to her advantage. The girl she was fighting was fast, that was her strongest asset. Natasha had a bit of trouble keeping up with her. The girl may have been fast but she knew she was more flexible than her and able to maneuver around better. The girl managed a hit to her stomach that had her toppling to the ground but it didn't take her long to kick the girl's feet out from under her and get to her feet almost in one move. the girl was getting frustrated at this point. The frustration only made her sloppy. She was able to bring the girl down to her back and when the girl tried to rise she knocked her back down with a kick to her chest. An alarm sounded after ten minutes of fighting, the other girl was the one found on the ground. This was not good for today were the elimination fights. Barely any of them flinched when the silence was interrupted by a single gunshot.

"Bravo Natalia," The man had a deep russian accent and a twisted smile on his face. She tried to ignore the pride in his eyes. He didn't think she'd loose. He put his gun back in the holster and motioned for another man to remove the other girl's lifeless body from the arena. Natalia nodded and took a deep breath, she had to win two more fights if she wanted to live another day. The man nodded back and her next opponent stepped forward.

* * *

Phil Coulson rushed down the hallway towards the medical unit. He pushed past all the other agents that crowded around from either curiosity or concern. The alarm was loud and only fueled the headache that had grown in the back of his head all day. He cursed under his breath the entire way there. From out of nowhere Agent Barton came up on his right side.

"What the Hell is going on?" Barton yelled and Phil shoved a young-looking agent, probably a new one, out of his way.

"I thought you'd be able to tell me." He shouted back to him.

"My shift ended about twenty minutes ago."

"One things for sure," Coulson said as they reached their destination and heard a loud crash.

"She's awake," Clint finished for him. There was someone yelling on the other side in a language Clint immediately identified as Russian. "And pissed," he added. Another loud crash was heard and the two men approached with caution. Clint was the first to see her. She had ripped out her IV and there was a line of blood down her arm. Coulson had instinctively pulled out his weapon and Clint fought the urge to do the same.

"I told you this would happen," Coulson said under his breath. Clint wasn't listening though. His complete attention was focused on her. She wore nothing but the paper-thin hospital gown, and in some places her hair was a tangled mess that hung around her shoulders. She had backed herself into a corner and now stared them all down with a look of hatred. A closer examination of her eyes however, and Clint could also see traces of what he dared to say was fear. They also had a far away look in them that told Clint all he needed to know. She looked like a wounded beast ready to pounce. Hanging loosely in right hand was the weapon that Clint assumed belonged to the agent who had replaced him. That same agent had a broken nose and was now stumbling out of there as fast as he could. In another corner Clint spotted a man with short black hair, dark terrified eyes, and a pair of scrubs on. He assumed he was a nurse and looked at him until they made eye contact. He motioned for the man to approach slowly.

"She doesn't know where she is," Clint said. "Look at her eyes Phil. They're looking but not seeing anything." He saw the muscles tense in Coulson's arms. He seemed to be debating whether she was faking it or not. The other man continued to move slowly towards Clint. After a moment Coulson cursed under his breath and looked over at Clint. He waited for the man to finally reach them. "Get out of here," the man didn't need to be told twice. Coulson then addressed Clint.

"You got any ideas?" He still hadn't lowered his weapon.

"Not a good one." Clint admitted. "I'm going to need you to leave." Predictably Coulson looked at him like he had grown a second head.

"Are you out of your mind Barton," he hissed at him.

"Told you it wasn't a good one." He replied and stepped forward. "I've got this." Coulson sighed in annoyance and lowered his weapon.

"Ten minutes Barton," he said then stepped out of the room. Clint took another slow step forward. She seemed to finally realize he was there and yelled something in russian at him. She raised the gun in her hand, aiming right at his head. He had no doubt in his mind that she wouldn't miss. He raised his hands up and she yelled at him again.

"Hey Natasha," he said in a calm voice. She didn't respond to him. "Do you remember me? Clint Barton, I brought you here to SHEILD remember?" He said and something seemed to click because she looked at him, really looked at him. The gun wavered just slightly. "You collapsed," he said taking another step forward "you've been out for a day and a half now." He slowly inched closer. "You almost died Natasha, twice, but you're ok now." When he was only a few feet away from her he lunged and grabbed the gun. He managed to twist the gun from her hand as she collapsed against the wall under his weight. He threw it across the room and held her wrist in his hands. He tried to place himself so that she wouldn't be able to hurt him. He heard a slight choking sound that sounded almost like a whimper, it sounded foreign coming from her. He then looked into her eyes to see them glazing over with that far off look again. He immediately backed away. He took a step back and held his hands up to show he was unarmed as well. "I'm sorry," he said. "I couldn't let you keep the gun. You're ok though right? Natasha?" He said in the same calm voice he'd used before. Her eyes slowly cleared and she looked around for a moment, taking in the hole in the wall and the glass on the floor. She then focused her eyes on him and her mask fell back in place.

"Don't touch me." She said with the threat clear in her voice. He nodded with his hands still raised. Her eyes swept the room once more before going back to him. "I want out of here."

"Ok," he said and slowly lowered his hands. "Ok, after the doctor comes in and-"

"Now Barton," she snapped. He studied her for a moment, looking closely there where very subtle signs of genuine fear. Her breathing was slightly heavier, she looked slightly paler, and just this general reaction at all gave it away. Natasha Romanoff didn't just hate hospitals, she was afraid of them. He reckoned that if she hadn't just woken up from nearly dying, twice, and in the grips of what he guessed was a powerful flashback, he would never have seen this fear.

"Ok," he said. He walked over to where the clothes she had worn the night before were folded neatly on the windowsill. He handed them to her with a nod and left the room to allow her to change. He made sure to grab the discarded gun on his way out. About half an hour later, after a long argument with the doctor, Clint had been told to lead Natasha to a spare room on the base. He was told to get her some food and allow her to rest for an hour before brining her to the interrogation room to continue questioning. He had left her in the room, two guards stood outside the door, and ran down to the cafeteria to get her something to eat and drink. The incident from the medical unit had caused a whole other uproar to swarm through the base. some where trying to joke around like they didn't care, but most where on edge. He ignored the whispers and the stares as he grabbed her a sandwich, an apple, and a bottle of water. He quickly returned to the room and handed the small meal over to her. She examined it for a moment before meeting his eyes and he simply pointed down at the food. She shrugged but he didn't leave untill she took a bite out of the sandwich. He told her that he'd be back to get her in an hour and she simply nodded. Once back out in the hallway he kept a cool face until he was away from the guards then leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath.

* * *

He didn't make eye contact with anyone as he walked through the hallways. They all talked among each other as he passed by them but he didn't even bother in wondering what they where talking about. He hated them. Every single one of them could drop dead and he wouldn't be able to care less. He hated what they were and the uniform that they wore to represent who they were. It was the same one that seemed to be burning against his skin. He held his head high as he walked. He was above all of them and he knew it. They were little more than scum to him. He hated having to be there, to sleep in the room with the rest of new recruits, to train along with them while knowing his skill far outweighed theirs. His body ached, it longed for some action. He felt his fingers twitch with each agent that he passed. He longed for a fight, for the terror and the bloodshed. There were times where it called out to him with every fiber of his being, but he was a professional. He had his orders and wouldn't make a move until he was finally given his signal. He passed a group off young men, whispering and laughing with each other, and hoped his orders came soon.

**And there's chapter 7. So...suggestions? Comments? Love? Hate? Feel free to share. Hope you all enjoyed :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter: 8**

Exactly one hour and ten minutes later she found herself back in the same interrogation room as before. She sat quietly, with her arms crossed over her chest, and stared at the two-way mirror. She wondered if there was anyone watching her at that moment, she highly doubted that it would be just her and Agent Coulson. She wondered if Agent Coulson or Furry was studying her at that very moment as she sat there, perhaps to see if they could pick up on anything. She also found herself wondering if Agent Barton was there, not for any particular reason, she was just curious and he was someone she knew. After a bit of a wait, she heard the door open behind her but she didn't look at the man who had entered. She kept her emotionless mask firmly in place. In that medical room they had seen her in a weakened state. She didn't dare let him see it again. She had spent most of the last twenty minutes preparing herself for the interrogation. She would not let her mask crack this time.

"Hello Ms. Romanoff," he said as he shut the door and walked to the opposite side of the table. "Are you feeling better today?" He tried to keep his tone kind and polite, but she could hear the edge hidden in his voice. She kept him on edge, that was good.

"I'm fine," she replied in a neutral tone of her own. He shrugged slightly as he took the seat in front of her and put down th clipboard.

"You had us concerned for a while there," he said and she didn't bother to reply to that. She had no doubt that a lot of people on the base would've been relieved if she had just died. "There was a device found," he said taking a paper out of the file that was resting beside his clipboard. He slid it over to her but she didn't pick it up, just stared at it. It was of some sort of device. It was paper-thin and about as small as a dime. She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "It was found under your skin, Ms. Romanoff, at the back of your neck," he said "do you know what it is?" She stared at him for a moment, possibly judging if he was telling the truth or not.

"No," she replied and slid the picture back to him. He sighed softly as he placed the picture back into the file.

"We believe it was the reason you collapsed," he informed her "somehow they believe it activated when I asked about your past organization, like some sort of trigger. Did your organization create anything like that?"

"There's a lot they didn't tell us," was her only reply. They stared at each other for a moment before he nodded and picked up his pen.

"Ok," he said "let's get back to where we left off then, what was your last organization?" The reaction was almost instant. her eyes began to look unfocused.

_ "Who takes care of you?" A harsh voice snapped at her. _

_"Red Room," She replied automatically. She didn't dare take to long to reply. _

_"Who is your only family?"_

"Ms. Romanoff?" The other voice called out to her again.

_"Red Room," She replied again_.

_"Will you ever betray your family?" _

_"No."_

"Ms. Romanoff," The voice snapped just enough to get her attention. She snapped out of her past and into the present. She could picture her old handler, Ivan, could see the dark look he seemed to always have in his eyes. She could smell him, hear his harsh voice in her ears, see his sick smile he always gave her.

"Ms. Romanoff, can I try something new?" Agent Coulson's voice cut through her thoughts again and she fought back the glare she wanted to give him for no apparent reason. He held out his pen to her and waited for her to take it. On instinct her mind went through all the different ways she could kill him with just that pen. She held it in her hand and pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. "I want you to twirl the pen." He said and she gave him a look. He sent one right back to her that said he wasn't kidding. His theory was that it gave her something that helped her focus, gave her a connection to the present. "Start twirling Romanoff, we're going to build up to this." She fought another glare but slowly did as she was told. "Ok, new question, where were you born?"

"Russia," she replied instantly. The pen twirled faster in her fingers.

"Good, how long where you with your past organization?" The pen slowed down and almost stopped. "Keep twirling." He said and she obeyed.

"As long as I can remember," she replied.

"Can you tell me how old you were when you joined them?"

"No," he had expected as much. "I was young though," the pen came back up to speed.

"Eighteen?" He threw out there and she shook her head.

"No, a child," she replied and he tried not to get frustrated.

"Thirteen?" He tried again.

"A young child," she tried not to snap at him. He paused for a moment and tried to give her a gentle look.

"Ballpark estimate?" The pen slowed down. "Ms. Romanoff?" Her eyes where losing focus again. "Ms. Romanoff?"

The weapon was heavy in her hands, and it was empty, she knew that for a fact. She looked up in the dirty old mirror of the preparation room and studied her small body closely. She was much smaller than a lot of the other girls. She grabbed the clip laying on the table beside her and put it into the weapon like she had been taught. A small clanking sound pulled her out of her thoughts along with a man's voice.

"Seven," she said calmly as she picked up the fallen pen. "If I had to guess." Coulson wrote it down.

"Can you estimate how old you were when you started doing actual work for them?" He asked and looked back up at her.

"seven" She repeated simply as she twirled the pen again. He gave her a look "we trained and worked at the same time." She said simply, as if it were completely normal. She simply kept twirling the pen and waited for the next question. She stopped when she noticed he was just staring at her. She thought back to what they had just said and realised he was surprised. SHEILD didn't train their agents that young? "Next," she said and he seemed to snap out of it. He wrote something down then looked up at her.

"Ok, Ms. Romanoff," he said with a serious look "I want you to twirl the pen and don't stop. Focus on twirling the pen ok." She wanted to roll her eyes at him but she had to admit to herself that twirling the pen had helped at least a little. She nodded and the pen began to move in her hand. "Do you remember what happened to your parents?" He asked cautiously, he knew this would be a tough one. _Smoke, she could smell it all around her. The air was warming up with fire._ Natasha fought the flashback and focused her attention on the pen as it twirled in her fingers.

"They-" _The smoke grew thicker and she could hear screaming. _

"I just need a dead or alive," Coulson said. _Voices screamed out her name. Something crashed behind her. _

"Dead," she said quickly._ The screaming grew louder and the fire was growing closer._ She focused on the pen twirling. She fought the memories that she couldn't even be sure were real, though somewhere deep inside of her said that they were. Coulson watched her closely the entire time, he waited until it seemed that she had a firm grip on herself again.

"Next question?" He asked and she looked up at him. "What organization did you work for?" Her hand stilled again and the pen fell from her fingers. It was slightly impressive to him that she could be so well conditioned that even the mention of revelling her past organization made her freeze. However, he wasn't too sure that he wanted to know how it was accomplished. "Romanoff focus," he said in a stern voice "get the pen." She looked down to where it lay in front of her. Suddenly she hated the stupid thing.

_"Who is your only family,_" She pushed back against the flashback. She glared at the pen on the table. She didn't need some stupid little object to help her, she was stronger than that. They had no more control over her. She's one of the best, if not the best, assassins in Russia. She could handle a simple question, she was being ridiculous.

_"Will you betray your family?_" She pushed against her own mind until it was silent.

"Red Room," something inside her snapped. It was like a chain that had held her back had finally broken. "The organization that I worked for was called the Red Room." Coulson stared at her for a moment then wrote it down. He was just about to speak again when the door came open and Furry himself stepped in. His face was just as blank as Natasha's, revelling nothing. She guessed that it was him who was doing the observing behind the glass.

"We need to speak." He said looking from Natasha to Coulson. He gave him a stern look to show that he wasn't anywhere near playing around "Right now."

**There's chapter 8. Hope you all enjoyed :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter: 8**

Agent Coulson didn't come back into the room like she had expected. Instead it was Director Fury himself that walked through the door. He locked the door behind him and she didn't comment, she didn't really care. If she truly wanted to she could get out. Her brain already, unintentionally, went through at least a dozen different ways she could kill the man. She could do it if she chose, but if he was going to kill her she really couldn't say that she blamed him. Natasha had killed a lot of people with a lot fewer reasons than anyone would have for killing her. By every meaning of the definition, Natasha felt that maybe she deserved death. She shook that thought away immediately. She knew that she didn't deserve death. No, she deserved something so much worse than that, death would be merciful. Also, she expected that if she did kill the director she probably wouldn't make it out of the building. She knew that she was good, but eventually that wouldn't be enough right? Besides, if this second chance thing that Barton had told her about did work out, maybe she wasn't ready to die just yet.

"You can stop now." He said as he took the seat across from her. Her eyes briefly glanced at the folder that he put on the table before looking back up at him.

"Stop what?"

"Imagining all the ways you could kill me." He spoke as if they were talking over coffee or something. "You may hide it well, but I know the type Romanoff."

"How many ways did you get to?" She asked him.

"About ten," he replied, crossing one hand over the other.

"About?"

"One or two of them was questionable if you'd survive or not. Also, I haven't actually seen you in combat." He shrugged and she just nodded. "And yourself?"

"About thirteen," she replied with the same calm voice that he used. He nodded as well.

"And how would you get out?" He asked and leaned forward just a bit, resting his elbows on the table.

"If I managed to kill you silently, I would have a few more minutes, so I'd probably take two lefts and a right and go down the stairs. If I managed to get that far I'd go down to the first floor and maybe try to head out through the front entrance, killing whoever stood in the way. Then again I could also go to the hanger and steal a jet." She said without hesitation. "I could also just engage in a full-out battle and try to kill as many agents as I could until I either got taken down or escape." She said without hesitation.

"I'm guessing though, that those aren't even the main plan." He said and she neither confirmed or denied the statement. He nodded and looked at her with his completely serious look that he did so well. "Ms. Romanoff, I've locked the door and disabled the video to this room." He said and tapped his finger on the folder. ""This will be the only record that this conversation took place, do you understand me?" She nodded and he continued. "Right now I want you to tell me everything you know about the red room. I want to know the leaders, the locations, the biggest hits they were involved in, everything." He noticed the slight tensing of her facial muscles. If he were anyone else he doubted that he would have noticed. "You don't have to go into any details about your personal experience but I would also like to know how they trained their agents, the serums they used, the...techniques." He studied her for a moment, her eyes seemed faded, like what Coulson had described to him before. "Romanoff!" he snapped and they cleared instantly. "After this you won't have to tell anyone else what you say here." He said and waited for her to acknowledge that she understood. "You do understand how much more difficult this makes everything?" She only nodded in response, her emotionless mask was unbreakable. "The Council is going to have to hear about where you came from, your cooperation with this" he said indicating the folder "may be the only thing that will keep you alive when they are informed. Now, I'll be honest when I say that no one here trusts you. In fact, many of them would feel better if you were dead." She didn't even flinch at his words. She already knew that they were true. "However, if you are serious about joining SHEILD then I'll try my best to make that happen. Do you understand?" Again she only nodded. "But do not underestimate me Ms. Romanoff, if I get the slightest hint that you might have another agenda, especially because of where you came from, then I will not hesitate to order your death. Do we understand each other?" She nodded "A real answer Romanoff," he said.

"Yes."

"Yes sir," he said back to her and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly at that.

"Sir is a sign of respect," she said "I'm still making up my mind if you deserve it." He was a bit taken back by that, not even Barton had talked to him that way. This woman was fearless.

"You aren't going to make this easy are you Romanoff?" She leaned forward and mirrored him with her elbow on the table and the dead serious look in her eyes.

"My instructor's name was Ivan," she said began "Ivan Petrovich."

* * *

Clint was exhausted but refused to slow down. He hit the punching bag with a series of complicated moves. He happened to glance over at the sparing ring where two juniors where moving around each other at a level he had passed a long time ago. He smirked at the memory of his last sparing match. He had sent the junior agent who had challenged him to the medical ward with a dislocated shoulder. To be perfectly honest he hadn't meant to do it. The junior agent just didn't know how to fall right so that the damage was minimum. Clint didn't know that he didn't know that. When you've fought at a certain level for so long it's easy to forget that the agents that were at a lower level don't know the same moves you do, especially when you're in the middle of a match and only thinking about your next move. He could bring himself to feel to bad about it though, the guy was a little prick who needed to be taken down a notch. He was sure that the guys trainer actually wanted to thank him but that would have been inappropriate. However, he did make a point to go easier on the junior agents after that. It was boring though, he hadn't had a really good sparing partner in a while. Actually the last really good fight he had was with Natasha on the night he was trying to kill her, go figure. He did hope that the interrogations would be over soon. She would be starting her monitored training sessions right after they were through. Coulson had already informed him that he would be there to watch her as well since she would technically be his responsibility. However he wouldn't be running any of the official tests himself, just monitoring.

"When's the last time you slept kid?" He heard behind him as he continued his assault. "Or had anything to eat?"

"What do you want Coulson?" He asked without stopping.

"Answer the question Barton."

"I got a few hours last night and had a bite to eat, ok mother?" He said as he thew some more punches.

"A few hours in last night or in the last few nights, and what was it that you ate exactly?"

"Jeez Phil," he stopped and turned around to face the older man "I ate a turkey sandwich and got exactly five hours of sleep last night, you happy now? Am I free to live my life?"

"I'm just trying to make sure you're taking care of yourself," Coulson said and Clint rolled his eyes. "Don't act like you don't need someone on your ass about your health."

"I can take care of myself," Clint mumbled under his breath as he unwrapped his fingers.

"If left up too you, you'd keep going until you collapsed." He shot Clint a look that dared him to argue. "You look tired, how long have you been here?"

"Well," Clint said and Coulson gave him another look. "I didn't have anything to do today so..."

"You've been here all day?" Clint shrugged. "You're hopeless, you know that right?" They both walked over to the bench that was near the wall and took a seat.

"Why are you here and not in the interrogation room?" Clint asked as he ran a hand through his sweaty hair.

"Fury took over," Coulson said "It's not something I can talk about." He said before Clint could even ask. An annoyed look passed through the archer's eyes but left just as quickly.

"Whatever," he mumbled and sat back against the coolness of the wall. Coulson did the same.

"At least you got some sleep last night," he said after a moment. "I bet you anything that over half the base has had trouble sleeping." Clint smiled at that.

"Well, she hasn't killed anyone."

"Yet." Coulson added.

"You don't think that she would have by now if she really wanted to?"

"If she wanted to? Yes, I believe she would have." Coulson replied and turned his head to look at him. "If she was put here by her organization to gain our trust then take us all out, maybe not."

"I don't think that is what she's here for."

"And you would know this how?"

"I just..."

"You have a feeling." He shook his head at him. "One day those are going to get you killed you know," Coulson said looking away from him.

"Eh probably." Clint closed his eyes and let a very slight smile show. "But they haven't killed me yet."

"Yeah, yeah," Coulson replied and got to his feet. "interrogations should be over by the end of today. Fury is going to meet with the Council first thing in the morning and if everything goes ok, she is to start the testing sessions." Clint gave him a confused look.

"I thought Fury already talked to the Council about this, why should he have to speak with them again?"

"Something of importance came up. I'm..."

"Not allowed to say." Clint said with another roll of his eyes.

"Yep."

"You people and your secrets." Clint murmured under his breath.

"We've all got secrets Barton, Don't act like you don't have a few things you don't want anyone to know," Coulson said. "Remember to eat and get to bed at a decent hour." He said as he turned around and began walking to the gym doors.

"Ok mother!" Clint said loudly before Coulson disappeared through the doors. He briefly glanced down at his watch then got up and went right back to what he was doing, another hour or two wouldn't hurt

**Ok people, like it? Hate it? Let me know. I at least hope that you all enjoyed reading :) **


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter: 10**

Coulson took a deep breath as he stepped into the gym. It was early in the morning but the room was alive with the sounds of voices as the new recruits were getting warmed up for the days events. From the twenty-two men and women who had come to them, only nine remained standing. This was the final stage before they became actual agents. This is where they got tested on all the skills that they had been training for during their stay at the SHEILD base, and they had to make proficiency in every test if they wanted to join SHEILD. The usual feeling of nervous excitement was in the air as he walked through the humongous room, but there was also something else lingering there. He didn't have to guess too hard to figure out what it was, almost the entire base knew about the current, high-profile occupant. Coulson took a sip of the steaming coffee that he carried and tried to hold back a smirk at seeing Clint instructing the group of people. Judging by the look on his face, Clint wasn't having much fun. He walked over to him and handed him the second coffee he had in his other hand. "Rough morning?" He asked and Clint shot him a grateful look as he took a sip of the coffee.

"You didn't get to bed at a decent hour I see."

"Not now mother," Clint murmured under his breath. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand and let out a soft groan. "I've already had to listen to two people complain that they're too sore to test today, one brag about how he was going to beat everyone else, then had to listen to the same guy argue with another egotistical ass about which of them was better, and then had to break them up before it turned into a real fight. I've had to tell one of the women that I'm not interested and when she didn't get the picture I had to tell her again." Coulson chuckled at that. "I also had to tell two of them that I don't know if the Black Widow will be joining us, and had to tell all of them that no, I don't know if she'll kill them all. That resulted in three of them saying they wouldn't test if she were here because they'd prefer to stay alive." Coulson shrugged and raised his cup to his lips again.

"You brought her here, your fault." He said before taking a sip. Clint scoffed.

"If I have to stay here much longer and a few of these recruits go missing, they won't have to worry about it being her fault," he said.

"Stop whining Barton," Coulson replied and Clint just rolled his eyes at his handler. There was a moment when the two just stood there watching the recruits do their warm-ups and drank their coffee.

"So-"

"I don't know Barton." Coulson said before he could finish.

"You don't even know-"

"I don't know what the Council said to Fury and I don't know if she'll be here or not." Coulson said without even looking at him.

"Lucky guess."

"Mmhm." Suddenly, the heavy gym doors closed behind them and the recruits seemed to freeze in place. They were all staring at something and the two men slowly turned around to see what it was. Their faces gave away nothing as Natasha Romanoff, followed by Nick fury and two guards, walked towards them. Her eyes met Clint's briefly when the group stopped in front of them.

"These are the guards that will be following Ms. Romanoff for the next couple of weeks. They'll make themselves scarce, I want her thoroughly tested on everything." The two of them nodded. He nodded in return and looked between them and her before nodding and heading out of the room. Natasha's eyes swept over the group of people who stood before her. She then glanced to each of her guards and raised an eyebrow at them. They instantly started to move.

"Good luck," one whispered to Barton while they walked past, only a few feet away, to the bleachers that were against the wall. The recruits still looked a bit shell-shocked. Her eyes swept over them again before landing on Clint.

"So," she said, breaking the slightly awkward silence, "Where do we begin."

* * *

"I don't see how they expect us to be at the top of our game while we're trying to watch our backs at the same time." The recruits had finally broken out of their spell as Clint lead them to the far side of the gym. They all walked a good couple of feet behind the Black Widow. Far enough so that the current speaker, Leanne Morrison, had thought she wouldn't be heard by the dangerous assassin if she whispered quietly. "I mean what are they thinking even letting her come here in the first place."

"I agree, have you heard what she's capable of, she's definitely up to something." A man by the name of Bryan Harris chimed in. Usually the men would stick to the other men and the women to the other women, so much for the week-long team bonding exercises they had to go through. However, it seemed that the new arrival had caused them to join together, at least a little.

"She doesn't look all that dangerous to me," the more egotistical of the group said. Frank Massey, the one who had been bragging and starting fights earlier.

"Dude, I bet she knows how to kill you in like, twenty different ways," another one chimed in. Massey smirked at that.

"Man, I bet if I had a few minutes alone with her I'd have her begging for me." He said and the women in the group rolled their eyes at him. "In fact if we were alone right now..." they all stopped dead in their tracks when Natasha stopped and spun around, a very serious and threatening look in her eyes.

"Actually," she said in a cold voice "There's about thirty-six different ways I can kill you just using my body." She locked eyes with Massey and gave him a dark smile. "If we where alone right now I'd make sure your body was never found again." Her features went dark again but she kept her eyes locked with his " and I don't beg for anyone."

"Romanoff," Clint said guards were starting to move closer, ready if she tried to act on the threat her voice held so clearly. She gave Massey one final glare before turning away and beginning to walk again.

"She's insane," Morrison whispered even quieter. It took him a few minutes but Massey eventually recovered and blew the whole thing off, trying to act like she didn't both him one bit. However he switched the topic off of her pretty fast and just continued to brag about his skills for the rest of the way over to the first test.

"Was it Fury's idea to have her tested with the recruits?" Clint whispered to Coulson. "I mean, even we can barely stand them." Coulson just shrugged and stepped aside as Clint turned to the group. He had to hide the smirk at seeing the way the recruits kept their distance from Natasha. "Ok, everyone. Here is your first test." In front of them there was a jungle gym. It was about raised about twenty feet off the floor. You had to climb a rope to get to the top, then go across some horizontal bars to get to the other side. Once there was a gap and you had to balance on a narrow beam to get to the other side, then there was another gap in which you had to swing across ropes that hung from the ceiling to get across. After that you had to climb down a rock wall and finally come to a stop at the finish line. "To be proficient you must complete the course in under ten minutes. So, who wants to go first?" Massey, of course, was the first to volunteer. He completed the course in eight minutes and thirty four seconds. One by one the other agents took their turns as Natasha watched from the sidelines. One of the guys fell off the balance beam and as a result finished the test in ten minutes and fifteen seconds. He left to go pack for the journey home. When they where all finished Clint turned to Natasha. "Your turn." He said and she let her eyes travel across the course. She heard Massey chuckle from somewhere behind her. No one had been able to beat his score, though one guy had passed his by only twenty seconds.

"I tried not to set the bar too high for you darling." Massey said louder than necessary. He wanted to make sure that she had heard him. She didn't glance back at him and instead just nodded to Clint. She pushed off the wall that she'd been leaning against and walked until she was standing in front of the rope.

"And start," Clint pressed the button for the timer to start and watched as she took off. She was up the rope in less than a minute and across the horizontal bars in one. Instead of walking across the balance beam like the others had she flipped twice, each time catching herself with one hand on the narrow beam, and was across in no time. Her feet barely touched the ground before she was jumping to the ropes. The momentum of her body allowed her to swing further on the rope, she had to use less than the others did in order to get across. Finally, she only climbed about halfway down the climbing wall before doing a backflip off of it and landing on the ground. She walked to the finish line. Clint stopped the timer and had to resist the urge to look back at Massey.

"four minutes and forty-eight seconds. That's a new record." She turned around and met his eyes.

"What was your score," she asked him. He smiled as he looked up from the clipboard he carried.

"Four minutes and fifty-four seconds." She simply nodded and he turned to the group of recruits that stood behind him."Ok everyone, on to the next test."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter: 11**

The day was actually turning in to something that Clint would call enjoyable. They had gone through five different tests. The obstacle course, a five-mile run, a four step test that required them to hack into a computer so that they could break a code in order to locate a hidden safe that they then had to break in to, breaking down and putting together ten different weapons, and a shooting test. So far, Natasha had proven to be amazing at everything, the only test in which she didn't surpass him was the shooting. Then again he suspected that there was no one he had met that could beat him with their natural skills. She did come the closest though. The best part about it though was the fact that Massey was pissed. Clint could tell that he was growing frustrated because he couldn't beat her, he found it quite amusing. Secretly, he suspected that Coulson shared felt the same way.

"Ok everyone," Clint turned to see the last of the remaining group. There was six of them, including Natasha, staring back at him. "I'm sure you can guess what happens here." He indicated one of the enormous padded areas. This was the part of the gym that you went to in order to practice your sparing. "Now, we're fortunate enough that we have an even number so I'm going to split you up into pairs and..."

"I wanna be paired with Red.." Massey spoke up with a smirk. Clint had to work to keep from rolling his eyes at the man. "We'll have fun." Yep, Clint decided that the man in fact did have a death wish. Natasha didn't spare a glance at him.

"While I would love to see you get thrown around the floor Massey, The pairs will be picked at random." he said as he got a piece of paper from the clip board he was holding. He ripped it into three parts and wrote down three different names. He then folded them in half and held them spread out in his hand. "Will Bryan Harris, Keith Brennan, and Robert Olson please step forwards. The three men did as they were told. "Ok, Harris." Clint held out the slips of paper and Harris hesitantly picked one.

"Leanne Morrison." Harris said with a slight relief in his voice. Clint nodded and Harris went to stand next to his partner.

"Olson," Clint held out the last two options and the man looked a bit nervous as he reached out and picked one. There was a mixture of relief and annoyance on his face when he looked at the name he had gotten.

"Frank Massey." He said and went over to where the other man stood. Out of all the recruits Clint had to admit that he didn't know much about Keith Brennan. The only thing he knew, and liked, about the man was that he almost never complained and was quiet about eighty percent of the time. He worked hard and had come in third place in all the tests besides the obstacle course. He was almost always only a minute or two off of Massey's score. The man didn't show any signs that he was against the idea, he simply nodded and walked over to where Natasha stood.

"Romanoff," he said and held out his hand to her. She looked at it then back up at him, he had surprised her.

"Brennan," she replied and shook his hand.

"Nice to finally meet you in person, the rumors don't do you justice." He said and Clint almost hit the floor. He had never heard Brennan use that sort of sarcastic tone that he spoke with. "Hope you aren't here to kill us all and that everything works out for you." Natasha's face remained passive. She turned back to where Clint was standing and waited for his direction.

"Umm," Clint was still trying to figure out why that had come out of Brennan. The man didn't speak in a disrespectful or offensive kind of way, it was just, kind of sarcastic joking but with a seriousness underneath. He had only ever heard the man speak in a strict respectful and orderly type of way and it just kind of surprised him. "Well, who wants to go first," he asked. Massey, of course. He studied each pair closely as they fought. Massey was strong and he knew how and where to hit someone, his problem was that he took a second or two to figure out where he wanted to hit and then execute. Olson was better at being faster but really didn't have a strength that stood out, he was an average fighter, and Massey didn't take long to get him to the ground. Harris was good with his hands but needed work with his feet. Morrison was good at blocking herself but would need work on her attack. They took longer than Olson and Massey but Harris did eventually win the fight. When it came time for Natasha and Brennan to start Clint could feel the slight anticipation in the air. Everyone, while being scared of her, was curious about the russian. Also, Clint expected that they wanted to see just how brutal she'd be with him.

Brennan was strong as well and a lot more clever about how he used it. His problem was that he left himself open too often and needed to speed up his actions. Natasha ended up surprising everyone. She struck fast, blocked and attacked with a sense of grace to her movements, and she used her smaller figure to her advantage, Clint could find no fault in the way she fought. That wasn't what surprised them though, they expected her to be better than the rest of them, though some may have been impressed with just how much better she was. No, the reason that she surprised them was because, while she fought impressively, everyone could tell that she was holding back in order for Brennan to show off his skills. A couple of times Clint even caught the way she made him move so that he could show his advantages more, but she also forced his weaknesses to show. Also, when she landed her strikes on the other man, they were softened so as not to cause any real damage. Natasha fought him so that she was up to his level of fighting and no further. She understood that they knew she was good and that they would have to be studying Brennan more than her. So, she allowed them to study him, she kept the fight going long enough to see all that there was to be seen before brining it to a close by pinning him to the floor with an easy hold. She had contained herself and the others couldn't quite believe it. Clint took his eyes off of them for only a moment, the fighting was over, and he went to write some notes on his clipboard. Natasha was getting up from where she had pinned Brennan to the ground. Brennan nodded and left the mats but as Natasha turned to do the same she felt a strong arms wrap around her waist.

"Let's go," she didn't even register that it was Massey's voice before she was was breaking out of his grip and landing a hard blow to his stomach. The air was knocked out of him for a moment but she didn't seem to notice. Clint had looked up when the others had gasped in shock, just managing to see the hit she landed on him.

"Romanoff!" He snapped but at the same time Massey had foolishly lashed out at her again. He had a smirk on his face as he brough his fist back, it faded quickly when she caught his fist in her hand before it could hit her. She didn't even wince at his fist coming in contact with the palm of her hand. At that point Natasha's body reacted out of instinct rather than where they were at the moment. She lifted the man into the air and let him fall on to his back. The guards rushed at her but again her instincts took over. Something in the back of her brain must have connected something because she didn't kill them, only knocked them unconscious. Everyone else seemed to stunned to do anything. Clint tried to go to her as well but was held back by Coulson who had his fingers to his comm unit. Massey just wouldn't stay down. He got to his feet, his face was contorted with anger and embarrassment. It was then Clint realised that Massey wasn't just sparing anymore, he was trying to hurt her. She must have sensed that as well. He rushed at her again and managed to land a hit that barely made her wince but the adrenaline pumping through her didn't allow her to feel any pain. She quickly grabbed his hands as he reared back for another hit. Almost in one motion, she twisted his arms, knocked his feet out from under him, and had him pinned to the floor. Clint thought that it was over until he saw something that made his blood run cold. In her hand she was holding a knife to Massey's throat. The man went pale as she stared at him and for a second it seemed that the whole room had frozen. Her eyes seemed to scream for the man's death. He had attacked her when she wasn't expecting it and this was his punishment. Clint felt his heart about to give out and just as Colson opened his mouth to say something, she blinked. Just like that the murderous look in her eyes was gone.

"I wouldn't suggest you do that again," she said in a voice that was completely void of emotion. She lifted the knife away from his neck and calmly stood up. She ignored the shocked, and somewhat terrified, faces that stared back at her. She only briefly noted the two guards that she had knocked out, and walked back to where Clint and Coulson stood. Coulson lowered his hand from his comm unit and looked back at her with an equally blank face. He didn't say anything only held his hand out to her. She raised an eyebrow at him before taking the knife and placing it in his hand. He gave her a look that she didn't respond to.

"Ok," he said putting the knife in his pocket.

"I'm just going to assume that, since we had guards check you for weapons and found none, that this is your last weapon." He said and gave her another look that clearly said to not prove him wrong.

"Ok," Clint said, finally snapping out of the daze he had found himself in, "well, let this be a lesson to you all." He looked back at the recruits who looked from where they were staring at Natasha with a renewed guarded look, to him. "It is never wise to attack a highly trained individual by surprise." Massey stood a bit off from the rest of the group as he tried to bounce back from what had happened. "Ok, I guess we're moving on..."

"Not quite Agent Barton," Fury's voice cut through the gym as he approached the group. He came to a stop in front of Natasha, Clint, and Coulson. "I've got a medic team coming for those two," he said pointing at the guards. "I expect that there was no real damage?" He looked down at Natasha who slightly shook her head.

"They'll be fine," She replied and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Good, Coulson,"

"Yes sir," he responded.

"Take Romanoff back to her cell," he said and Coulson nodded. He motioned for Natasha to start walking and she did. Fury then took a step forward to address the recruits. "Twenty minute break." The recruits responded by breaking away from each other, though they all waited a minute or two before leaving the gym and going their separate ways.

"What was that about sir?" Barton spoke up from where he stood behind his boss.

"What do you meant Agent Barton?" Slowly Fury turned to look at him.

"You sent her to be tested with a group of recruits whan we all know what she is capable of, the guards you sent were not even close to being any help, Coulson obviously heard someone talking to him through his comm, he also stopped me from interfering, and you happened to show up after the incident meaning you knew what happened but you didn't bother ringing any alarms to stop it." Clint replied "you had a plan and I would like to know what it was." Fury had the slightest hint of a smirk on his face. He folded his arms over his chest and looked Clint in the eye.

"I looked over the files of these recruits. We had a lot of complaints about one in particular. It's interesting how people react when their ego is challenged don't you think so Barton?"

"You purposely put her in this group because you knew that Massey would try something stupid," Clint asked. "So you weren't testing her skills then. What, where you testing her patients?"

"That was part of it," Fury admitted "but mostly I wanted to see if she could stop herself." Clint gave him a slightly confused look.

"How did you know that she'd have a hidden weapon?"

"I didn't, but you and I both know that she doesn't need one to kill Agent Barton," Fury replied.

"That was playing with fire sir," Clint said.

"It was important to know if she could stop herself."

"What if she would've killed him?" Clint already knew the answer but asked anyways.

"Coulson had orders to terminate immediately. That's what he heard over his comm Agent Barton." Fury said then turned and walked towards the door. Clint took a deep breath and felt the weight of the fact that it all could have just ended for her right then and there.

**Well, hope you all enjoyed and thanks for the reviews everyone, you're awesome :) **


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter: 12**

Natasha didn't even need to look in order to know that he was approaching. She didn't even take her eyes off the spot on the ceiling that she had been staring at for the past two hours. She didn't turn her head towards him when he spoke his way past the guards or when he entered the cell.

"Dinner time." He said but she still didn't look at him. He waited a moment before speaking again. "You scared the hell out of Massey."

"Massey talks about more than he can back up." She replied "he's no better than the rest of the recruits I've met today, and I don't think he'd last more than a year or two." Clint couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Finally she turned her head and looked at him. "What do you want Barton?"

"It's dinner time." He repeated himself and she didn't respond. "I convinced Fury to let me take you to the cafeteria." She turned away from him then and stared back at the ceiling.

"I have no desire to go to the cafeteria Barton." She replied in a monotone voice. He internally sighed though he should have expected the rejection.

"It'll get you out of this cell," he offered "at least for a little while."

"No," she replied.

"You must be hungry by now."

"I'm trained to go days without food if I have to," she replied.

"The key words being have to," he said "there's a perfectly fine cafeteria just a few hallways away, you don't have to go without if you'd just stop being stubborn."

"Why are you so insistent on this?" she asked with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"Because people are going to have to get used to seeing you around here sometime and because I don't want to have to keep bringing food to you when you could go get it yourself if you'd show Fury you'll behave." She glared at him but got up from where she laid. She didn't say a word as she followed him to the cafeteria. Her new guards followed silently behind them.

Just as she had predicted, the moment they entered the cafeteria all eyes were on them. She saw some trying to avoid looking while others just openly stared. Clint walked on as if he didn't even notice. She followed him and while she did see them all staring, and some starting to whisper among each other, she didn't allow anyone to see that she saw them. Natasha ignored all the looks that the other people gave her as they made their way to the line of food.

"You know," Clint spoke up as he grabbed a tray. "They might feel better about you if you'd try to be less intimidating." She ignored him and picked up a tray herself. "Maybe you could try to talk to one of them." They grabbed their food, both going for the turkey sandwich and an apple, and Clint turned to find a seat. Natasha was annoyed. Not only did he make her come to the cafeteria but he was going to make her stay there? She kept her face blank so that he couldn't see but she was definitely annoyed with him. He led them over to a table in the corner, away from everyone else, of that she was thankful. Clint looked around and saw the heads that immediately turned away when he looked at them. He shook his head slightly at their behavior, not that he could really blame them, and turned back to Natasha. "You could at least try smiling once in a while or something." She looked at him for a second then her eyes snapped to the people sitting behind him. He watched as she flashed them a dark smile that screamed dangerous. He heard the sliding of chairs and some footsteps rushing away. "Really Romanoff?" He asked putting down the sandwich he had just picked up. She stopped the evil smile and shrugged.

"You said smile and I smiled."

"Not what I meant and you know it." He caught a glimpse of the slight satisfied smirk in her eyes before she let her face fall into that blank mask again. After a slight roll of his eyes he picked up his sandwich again and took a bite. "So, pretty interesting day huh?" He asked in an attempt to make small talk. She just shrugged and took a bite out of her own sandwich. "You fight really well." She just nodded so he tried again. "Whoever taught you must have been a great teacher." She looked at him and he swore he saw something dark flash through her eyes but it disappeared almost as soon as it had appeared. She looked back down at her food without any comment. He decided to steer away from that subject. "So, any hobbies?" She gave him another look, like she was searching him for something, but again didn't answer. He sighed and sat back in his chair "you know when someone tries to make small talk it's considered rude not to answer."

"Then why do you keep trying," she almost snapped at him but not quite. He gave her a hard look that was borderline glaring.

"Because that's what people do when they're trying to be your friend. Haven't you ever had a friend before?" Natasha just stared at him as an image starting forming in her head.

"_You're my best friend" The girl's big brown eyes looked up at Natalia as she spoke. Natalia nodded and the two girls hugged briefly before breaking apart and going their separate ways. They always took different ways back to the bedroom that they were assigned to. Each room held about five girls each. After about a year and half of being in the red room the two girls had met when Natalia had saved her from another girl's attack in the middle of the night. Sonia had been beaten as a punishment earlier that day and the girl saw an opportunity to kill her while she saw weakened. Natalia happened to be awakened by the incident and, while she didn't know why, she saved her. The two of them had been best friends ever since. They watched each other's backs but where very careful about it because they didn't want their instructors to find out. They were careful not to talk around anyone and to keep those conversations short when they knew there was a risk of being caught. They had really grown close to each other. _

_It was about two months after they had become friends when Natalia was called up in front of the other girls when the training for the day had begun. It wasn't too unusual. The instructors would always call one of them to the front and either have them demonstrate something and would be punished if they got it wrong, or they would go straight to the punishment as a way of "character building" as they put it. Natalia could sense, however, that there was something wrong. Her fears only became worse at seeing Ivan step up to her and hand her a handgun with a twisted smile on his face. Sonia was then called up and she reluctantly stood as well. She wasn't handed a weapon. They had been found out and Natalia felt her heart sink when they ordered her to shoot her only friend she had ever had. Natalia felt her heart race. If she didn't pull the trigger she knew that she would be harshly punished if not killed herself. She also knew that it was certain they would kill Sonia and they would make her death slow and as painful as they could just out of spite for Natalia not following their orders. One of the instructors said that she had five seconds. He counted down and when he hit one, a tear fell from her eyes as she pulled the trigger. She didn't have another friend after that. _

Clint watched as she seemed to be lost in her own world for a moment. He called out to her once but got no response. He cursed that blank stare of hers for the millionth time. He wished that he could tell what was going on in that brain of hers.

"You're not my friend." She said suddenly and he gave her a confused look.

"What?" He asked and she stood from the table with a glare in her eyes.

"You're not my friend Barton nor do I wish to be your friend." She said and headed straight for the door. Her guards quickly got up to follow her. Clint only watched as she stormed out the door.

* * *

"Do you think it was wise sir," Coulson asked "testing her the way you did?"

"She could have faked any other test that we would've given her." Fury sat down at his desk and folded his hands on the cool wooden top.

"You don't think she could've been faking that?"

"It's was the best method I could come up with that had the best chance of getting true results." Fury replied simply.

"She stopped herself," Coulson said after a few moments of silence and Fury nodded.

"Yes, she did." Coulson rubbed the back of her neck then looked up at the director.

"Do you trust her sir?" Fury didn't hesitate with his answer.

"Not one bit." Coulson was about to reply to that when Fury continued. "But Barton seems to have some faith in her. The boy is a pain in the ass but he's smart. I'm willing to see where this goes but I don't trust her."

"And if Barton's instincts are wrong about her?"

"Then there is going to be one hell of a storm coming."

**Woot! Chapter 12 complete. Hope you guys enjoyed **


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